Yearning for the Vanished Youth....
As I was heading home thinking of what I could have for dinner to accompany my vodka martini (pasta with tomato sauce or pasta with pesto sauce??), my friend C. called to take me out to a farewell party of a former colleague of ours, a firm we had both left 6 years ago. A bit unconvinced, I went there and saw faces I had not seen for the past 6 years. And there he was in the middle of the crowd, hard to miss as he is big and tall compared to the French mass, Mr. X, who hasn't changed a bit, a few wrinkles and a few kilos, perhaps, but the same old, same old Mr. X... I've always had a crush on him, his slight British accent was a charming appeal to me. A sweet moment with him, one single night, 8 years ago when he asked me whether he could kiss me, in the darkness of a nightclub during a firm event. I was drunk, as usual, but I do remember how sweet it was, the kindest kiss ever, demurred and civilized, nothing more, just an innocent and tender kiss, felt like kissing for the very first time ... Nothing else happened, but after 8 years, I still do remember this one night kiss, as a gentle memory. It was nice to see Mr. X again and catch up, but awkward, I was. After a polite but nostalgic conversation, I left with a little twinge of sorrow.Good old memories should be kept in the past... or maybe not? When you are in your mid-thirties, you got to make a move. After all, what do I have to lose? Worse case scenario, he is married, with kids. So what? It's not that I'm flirting with him... Okay, I will drop him an email, a silly one: "Hey Mr. X, it was good to see you again! Let's organize a alumni reunion with those who were present yesterday!" How pathetic. No. I won't make a move, as usual. "That's why you are still single," my friend C. says.
Labels: Relationships et al., Self derision
posted by The Little Prince's alter ego @ 12:58 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home